


Yellow Submarine

by truc



Series: What are friends for? [3]
Category: Batfamily - Fandom, Batman - All Media Types, Batman/Superman - Fandom, DCU, DCU (Comics), Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Alien invasions are easier to navigate than your kids..., Bruce as a father, Bruce does not care at this point, Clark is ashamed, Fluff, Gen, He just wants Clark to suffer too, Nobody Dies, Tim Dick and Damian are all looking for trouble, What could go wrong with Bruce and co in an escape room?, What is normal again?, being friends with Batman, but it is a close thing..., escape room, especially those kids..., family stuff, seriously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2019-07-13 14:46:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16020116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/truc/pseuds/truc
Summary: An Escape Room with Damian, Tim, Dick, Bruce and Clark.***"Damian, I said no weapons.""Father, a katana is not only a weapon; it is an everyday necessity.""Only if your daily necessity is killing people," Tim interjects."Tim, you have two knives hidden in your socks," Bruce raises an eyebrow in his third son's direction."They are discreet, besides, everyone in Gotham who's not insane carries knives in their socks. Escrima sticks hidden in sleeves and katanas hidden between someone's shoulders, on the other hand, are not a normal sight here," Tim points out."Hey! My sticks have feelings, you know. You don't have to make them feel unwelcomed, Tim," Dick pouts.





	Yellow Submarine

The minute Clark flew into the Batcave with an injured Batman, he knew he was in trouble. Not so much because Bruce was injured, but, mainly because Damian, Tim and Dick were all waiting in the room with no costume on.

"How injured is he?" Tim questions with crossed arms on his chest and zero sympathies in his tone.

Superman looks down at Batman he had just dropped on the floor and glances at the kids' annoyed face," Surprisingly, for an alien invasion he kept insisting on sacrificing himself to stop, not that much. Bruised ribs, at most."

"I knew it," Dick answers, pointing an accusing finger at his father figure, "You are trying to get out of our agreed family time. You promised, Bruce, and you're already three hours late."

"Grayson, Father is not a coward."

"No," Tim answer with a sharp tongue, "But this is the third time. We make openings in our schedule and he always has an emergency alien invasion up his sleeve."

"I don't control the timing of alien invasions, Tim," Bruce steadily replies.

Tim narrows his eyes at him, "We can't prove it yet, you mean. But, if you keep this up, we will."

Dick looks at Bruce and smiles. Superman sees Bruce flinching at the smile while Dick joyously continues, "You may be late, but we have time to do a family activity together."

Tim and Damian nod while Bruce grunts.

"Movie night?" Dick offers.

"No," both Tim and Damian answer simultaneously before glaring at the other. Dick puts his sad face on, "Why?"

"You just want to repeat all the lines at the same time as the actor. Plus you only enjoy terrible movies," Tim replies.

"You cry at every movie, Grayson," Damian elaborates.

"Even My Little Ponies movies," Tim contributes.

"But, it was a 'cryable' scene. The words were so... touching."

"'Let's be friends?' How is that even touching?"Tim argues with a grimace.

Finally, Bruce clears his throat, "No movies. And no board games."

"But Bruuuce, board games are the epitome of family nights," Dick answers with puppy eyes.

"Tim started trying to buy all the Monopoly properties in real life with my money to prove Damian wrong on how much the game was based on social-economic realities and that he was a better businessman in real life. Risk almost ended with Damian borrowing some of his grandfather's army to attack some world region to prove Risk should incorporate geographical defences like mountains and rivers to the game. Clue became a hacking competition between all three of you to see who could solve the best unresolved Gotham case. No board games," Bruce announces as he finishes taking out his suit and starts putting a sweatpant and sweatshirt over his underlayer clothes.

Tim, Dick and Damian look at one another, trying to gauge what to offer. 

"Water gun fight?" Dick proposes.

"No fighting games," Bruce counters, "Our pictures are still posted as banned on all laser-tag places for all 59 miles around Gotham." 

Clark really didn't want to know how that had happened. 

"We could always eat at a restaurant," Tim suggests.

"And get attacked by bored villains again or have another food fight errupt between you and Damian? No," Bruce dryly responds.

"We could go to the zoo," Damian offers. The glare Bruce turns on him speaks volumes about his feelings on the subject. 

"You have to admit, Bruce," Dick chuckles, "Damian going on a crusade to open all the cages was awesome."

"Yeah," Tim responds sarcastically, "Almost getting stomped by an elephant in the middle of Gotham is hilarious."

"That's only because you are slow, Drake. If you had some talents, you would have evaded the scared creature."

Before this could change into a full-blown war, Dick turns to Superman, "Clark, what do you do to have fun with your friends or your kid?"

Clark had been starting to think he was forgotten until then, "Uh, we often go for a tea... Last time, we went to an escape room."

Bruce nods, "Those are fun."

Clark stares at his friend, "You've played those before?"

"My teacher would tie me up in different ways and I had to escape before the water would submerge me," there was such a wistful quality in Bruce's voice, Clark thought he would add a "those were the good times," at the end.

"Uh, Bruce, I didn't mean that kind of escape room. I meant the ones that people do for fun? You have an hour to get out of a room by following clues," Clark explains. 

"Can't they just break the door?" Damian asks.

"Did you get the kidnappers arrested?" Tim blinks. Clark thinks Tim is messing with him. He probably is at that.

Clark shakes his head, "It's only a game."

"Okay, let's do it!" Dick cheers.

Bruce gazes at his three kids, "Fine, but, only if Clark comes along."

"Bruce, I have an article to finish for tomorrow," Clark interrupts.

"You've already finished it," Bruce answers, daring him to lie to his face again, "It is waiting on your desk." Clark had really looked forward to a quiet evening. He felt Dick's imploring gaze, Tim's hopeful gaze and Damian's untrusting gaze on him and he cracks, "Fine, I'll go with you."

Less than half an hour later, Clark and the kids were waiting for Bruce to get down from getting dressed for the outing.

The first thing Bruce said as he descended the stairs was: "Damian, I said no weapons."

"Father, a katana is not only a weapon; it is an everyday necessity."

"Only if your daily necessity is killing people," Tim interjects.

"Tim, you have two knives hidden in your socks," Bruce raises an eyebrow in his third son's direction.

"They are discreet, besides, everyone in Gotham who's not insane carries knives in their socks. Escrima sticks hidden in sleeves and katanas hidden between someone's shoulders, on the other hand, are not normal sight here," Tim points out.

"Hey! My sticks have feelings, you know. You don't have to make them feel unwelcomed, Tim," Dick pouts.

Bruce sighs, "Let's just get this over with. Where's the closest escape room place, Tim?"

"The most acclaimed one is on Eleventh street."

"Closest," Bruce insists. 

"Narrows."

Bruce makes a sour expression, "We'll go to the one on Eleventh Street."

The drive was mostly uneventful (except for how some pinkish gum had inexplicably been stuck in Dick's hair and had only come out with some of Batman's solvent). They waited for the employee to dutifully explain them the aim of their game: "So, like, the goal is to find the key and unlock the door. Don't break anything. Don't make a mess. You have an hour. We have cameras in every room, so, you better behave." For once, no one made any trouble, that is, until the employee left them in the room.

"Let's get started," Clark says with a cheerful voice.

"Wait!" Dick stops them with his outstretched hand, "We are lacking something vital before we can start."

"What?" Tim questions. 

"A name! How should be called? We have to get out of this room to save humanity from an evil scientist, we have to have a name to give to the reporters after all this."

Damian scowls at his eldest brother, "No name. There. We have a name."

"No, Dami, we need a real name. Something that represents all our strengths and particularities." 

Bruce massages the bridge of his nose, "Call us Fearless or something."

Dick shakes his head in profound disapproval, "You taught me, Bruce, that the image you present is what determines your value. We have to make a good impression if we want to get hired again after we ruin our current evil boss's scheme. Nobody would want to hire us if they perceive the results of today as us being disloyal or whistleblowers. We need to present a good image."

Damian was getting impatient at this time, "We are wasting time. The balance of the world hangs in our hands. I believe that takes precedence over our employability after today."

Dick lifts a finger, "We can't just save the world willy-nilly, we have to ensure we have the best outcome possible for everyone involved."

"We are wasting time," Tim loudly announces. 

"We need a funny name nobody would see as a threat, yet, not something too ridiculous," Dick insists. Damian growls and tries to bypass his eldest brother. Dick touches his sticks and the battle is only one twitch from erupting when Clark suggests, "How about 'Yellow Submarine'? It's a nice and childish song. Nobody thinks it threatening and it's just this side of ridiculous."

Dick ponders it, "Yeah, that doesn't sound so bad. Let's go with that!"

"Now, can we gather our clues? The game started ten minutes ago," Tim comments. And they do. Within five minutes, the boys and Bruce have combed the placed perfectly (while Clark prefers to stay out of their way) and they found all the needed clues to unravel the game in another minute. 

"Now," Bruce looks disdainfully at the key, "We can get out of here before we have even broken anything."

Damian glares at the room, "It was really too simple. Is this really the hardest level they have?"

Tim replies, "Even idiots would have found the conclusion from the clues within thirty minutes."

"I have an idea," Dick says. Bruce sighs and looks mournfully at the key to get out of there. "Which is," he prompts.

"We should take the clues and remake this game in a manner that would challenge even us!" Dick looks proudly around while Tim, Damian and Bruce examine him with dubious looks. 

"That sounds like a good idea," Clark exclaims to get some enthusiasm going. 

"Don't encourage him," Bruce tells him. 

"Hey, this is your family bonding opportunity, of course, you should take more than twenty minutes together," Clark smiles.

Bruce shakes his head and grits his teeth, "That's the deadline," as the three kids start planning how to arrange the escape room.

Clark raises an eyebrow, "For?"

"Before a disaster strikes. Why do you think it took us exactly sixteen minutes in this room to resolve the puzzle? I timed it right."

"Let me go!" Clark hears Damian scream.

"But you are so cute and cuddly!" Dick replies.

Bruce crosses his arms, "You take care of this. I'm not paying another entire building's repairs." 

"You're their father," Clark argues as he becomes more and more sure he does not want to get involve as knives, escrima sticks and katana are taken out. He's pretty sure all three of them has a shard of Kryptonite just in case something goes wrong.

"This is your horrible idea," Bruce leans on the wall, thus avoiding the knife flying above his head.

"Aren't you worried the cameras will see all the disaster they are making and the employees would figure out who you are?"

"I already had Tim hack the camera. Just how often do you think I've done things with them?" Bruce answers as the feral scream of Damian reverberates against the wall. 

"I thought you were too busy to take care of your kids," Clark catches the creepy porcelain doll flying towards his face. 

"What came first, the chicken or the egg?" Bruce answers. 

Clark looks dumbfounded at him, "You get busy to avoid taking care of them?"

"I'm not avoiding them," Bruce ducks under the paint that was thrown his way, "I just need to work outside of my home to preserve my sanity."

"Do you really calculate when alien invasions will occur and plan your family outings at those time? " Clark notices the paint on his clothes and he curses.

"Language," Bruce scolds, "And those allegations are unproven."

"But not unfounded," Tim answers from in front of Bruce with a piece of paper, "We did finally decide which villain we have been working with undercover. These are the clue to solving the escape room and saving the world." 

Bruce parses through it as his kids look at him, "Who had the idea of finding the rhyming scheme to a poem and translating into morse? That is clever." 

"It is mine," Damian smugly declares.

Clark looks over the piece of paper, "There is no way anyone is going to figure this puzzle out."

"What to do you bet?" Dick grins.

Clark widens his eyes at the statement until he remembers not every member of the Batfamily is present. His eyes narrow suspiciously, "I would bet on it if nobody connected to the Batfamily could figure it out."

Dick seems disappointed, "That's not fair."

Bruce evaluates the state of the room, "What happened to the wall?" 

"Artistic differences?" Tim innocently answers.

Bruce sighs, "At least nobody got hurt. It is better than our average outing. Should we head back?"

"We should have ice cream to celebrate Yellow Submarine's victory," Dick suggests. 

"Depends how much I have to pay for repairs."

Dick looks around, "Definitively less than the laser-tag incident."

"Or the zoo," Damian adds.

"Or even the famous Mcdo marriage incident," Tim also adds. 

"Then, maybe for ice cream, but, you have to clean up the room to hide your skillsets and weapons use before the hour is up."

"There are five minutes left," Tim states.

"My job is to challenge your skills until you get better all around. Cleaning up is a skill," Bruce shrugs. 

"Pennyworth cleans up after you," Damian accuses him. 

"Finding the right people to delegate problems to is also a skill," Bruce replies. 

"Your parents were the ones that found him. You simply inherited Alfred," Tim argues as he starts cleaning the room.

"Luck is also a skill," Bruce crosses his arms. 

"Then, you are really skillful. You got perfect kids like us," Dick smiles. 

Clark could swear he saw Bruce's lips curl upwards, "I wouldn't say perfect..."

Clark shoves his elbow into Bruce's bruised ribs with a warning look. 

Bruce glares at him yet, mutters in a softer tone only Clark can hear, "But I am lucky you are all here tonight."

Maybe the escape room hadn't been a total disaster after all... 

But the ice cream outing did become an unqualified disaster; thus, making the evening one significant event of Wayne's kids' legendary troublemaker's legend. Clark was too embarrassed about going outside of his apartment for days after in his civilian identity (except for work, for which he made the trips as Superman, because he had to make an income). Lois didn't let him live it down.


End file.
